The farmer praying for sunshine, and clear blue skies. Mowing hay, and letting it lay, for a day.

The farmer rakes his hay into wind rows. Leaving the wispy rows to bask in the sunshine.

The sweet smell of the fresh mowed hay rises through the air.

The July heat can be seen dancing on the horizon.

Now, the hay has been baled. Sitting in rows looking like giant mini wheat’s.

The hay must be moved to the barn to be stacked. The harvesting of hay to last through the winter.

Sometimes the last bale is stacked at midnight.

A long days work.

Bringing in the hay before the dew kisses each bale. Leaving it damp, and likely to mold.

The danger of stacking wet bales causing combustion burning down the barn.

So, the hay must all be moved from field to barn.

From field to barn.

Load after load,

From dusk until midnight,

Till the field is empty,

and the barn is full.

 

 

– Jamie Whorton ©